


Memo

by badgirlcarly



Category: Thunderheart (1992)
Genre: Corporal Punishment, Domestic Discipline, M/M, Over the Knee, Punishment, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-16
Updated: 2017-06-16
Packaged: 2020-12-17 08:33:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,260
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21051419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/badgirlcarly/pseuds/badgirlcarly
Summary: Ray has an attitude problem at work, and Crow Horse handles it.





	Memo

  
Ray got into his truck to find a folded piece of paper tucked against the dash console, covering up the speedometer and the busted gas gage. He picked it up, frowning; it was the same pink transfer paper as the violator’s copy of a citation. Ray knew that Crow Horse was not above leaving him a parking ticket for having one tire on the grass instead of the driveway, but he would have stuck that under the windshield wiper like Ray was just a normal citizen, since that would annoy him the most. 

Ray unfolded the paper, and a jolt of shock ran through his chest. It was a disciplinary write up. For a moment on top of that uncomfortable mix of dread and anticipation, Ray felt very hurt. He hadn't done anything to deserve formal reprimand, and the thought that Crow Horse would just write him up without speaking to him stung. But then he caught the name on the first line of the form: respondent was listed as SPECIAL AGENT AND PROFESSIONAL PAIN IN MY ASS RAY LEVOI. Ray rolled his eyes and continued reading. 

OFFENSE: MAKING ME TALK TO THE DAMN STATIES

The corner of Ray’s mouth quirked. Crow Horse hated interagency communication, and he hated paperwork, which put him, as Ray was too happy to remind him, in the wrong line of work. The SDHP brass _had_ been up Crow Horse’s ass lately, and it _was_ Ray's fault. Ray had butted heads with some troopers a couple weeks ago. They'd had to call him in on an offense, but they were tight with Coutelle and irritated by having to deal with a Native American federal agent, so their approach was to measure dicks and cut him down. Ray was over it. He took over the case completely, shutting them out. Legally, it was above board, but from any other way of looking at it, it was--well, bratty. The staties were pissed, but there was nothing they could do to retaliate against the FBI, so they did what they could to make life unpleasant for the tribal police. Ray had not anticipated that, and he did feel bad that he'd gotten Crow Horse involved, but there was nothing to do but let them get tired of their stupid game. 

Ray read the next line of the form, and that uncomfortable mix of dread and anticipation bloomed in his chest again. Listed under RECOMMENDED ACTION, written in Crow Horse’s round sixth grade script, was:

** ONE GOOD, OLD FASHIONED BUTT BLISTERING **

Ray exhaled slowly, smiled wryly. He had not anticipated this, and he sure as hell didn't want it, but there was no way to spin it that he didn't absolutely deserve to be over Crow Horse’s knee. Professionally, it was not something to raise an eyebrow at, but personally it was a spankable offense, easy. 

He read on. Under date and time, Crow Horse had written, **THE VERY SECOND I GET HOME AND YOU BEST BE THERE**. 

Ray sighed, checked his watch. He had planned to go to the general store to get the weekly grocery shopping out of the way, but Crow Horse had left an hour ago for the hardware store and smart money had him back soon. Ray's shoulders slumped. He got out of the truck and headed back to the house, note in hand. 

***

Ray was sitting in the bedroom, waiting nervously when he heard the growl of Crow Horse’s bike. He let out a breath. This was almost better than getting sick with anticipation of what was coming. The spanking would hurt, but then it would be over, and he could breathe again. 

The keys in the door, Crow Horse’s boots on the hardwood. The door whined open, and Ray looked up to see Crow Horse’s annoyed face. 

“Hey,” Ray said, and held up the write up. “I got your note.”

“That all you got to say?”

“No,” Ray said, and then, “I'm sorry. I didn't know it would come back to you. I'm not excusing myself--I was immature and uncooperative, and I know I've earned a punishment--but I just wanted you to know that I would never knowingly hurt you.”

Crow Horse’s face softened. He closed the distance between them, threaded his fingers gently through Ray's hair. 

“I know that,” he said. “I trust you.”

Ray smiled, and Crow Horse tried to look stern again, but he only got halfway there, affection showing through. 

“You're still getting your butt spanked,” he said. 

“Yes, sir.”

Crow Horse took off his hat, set it on the bedside table. He nodded, mostly to himself. 

“You go get the slipper, now.”

Ray obeyed, fishing out one of Crow Horse’s slippers from the closet floor. They were flannel with heavy soles, warm on your feet in the winter and painful as hell on your ass when you deserved it. Ray handed Crow Horse the slipper. He waited until Crow Horse sat on the bed, then lowered his pants and shorts and let Crow Horse position him over his knee. 

Crow Horse rested the slipper’s thick sole against the curve of Ray's naked ass. He tapped once, twice, then brought it up high and swung it down hard against Ray's backside. A sharp pain stung Ray's skin, and he cried out a little. 

“You been a bad boy,” Crow Horse said, “and Bad. Boys. Get. Spanked!”

Crow Horse punctuated each word with a hard hit with the slipper. Ray's butt burned. Crow Horse picked up a brisk pace, slapping the slipper down to a cruel tempo. Ray squirmed, but only as much as he knew would go unpunished. Crow Horse had explained to him explicitly before one of his first spankings: He could squirm a bit, kick his legs a little. He could cry and shout and beg. But if he cursed or fought or ran, there would be hell to pay. Ray had never pushed it. He knew Crow Horse was absolutely serious, and he did not want to know what paying hell entailed. 

The slipper smacked down several times at the tender junction where Ray's ass met his thighs, and Ray grunted, then whined. He grabbed the bedspread in his fist and moaned through clenched teeth. It hurt. His ass was on fire, his muscles heavy with pain and his skin sunburn raw. He tried to hold it in, keep composed, but then Crow Horse asked him to speak. 

“Why are you over my knee?”

Ray was surprised to hear his voice so raw. “I was bad.”

“You were what?”

“Ugh, ow! I was a bad boy!”

“And what happens to bad boys?”

Ray heard his voice break before he felt the tears warm on his cheek. “Bad boys get spanked,” he said miserably. 

“You're goddamn right they do,” Crow Horse said, and he didn't say another word until it was over, leaving Ray to listen to himself sob and the crack of the slipper across his naughty ass. 

When it was over, Ray pulled up his pants, and Crow Horse pulled him against his chest. 

“Did we learn a little lesson about interagency cooperation?” he asked, and wiped tears off Ray’s face. 

“Yes, sheriff.”

Crow Horse kissed him. “Good. Keep it in mind. Next town over’s got a trafficking case for your consult first thing Monday. Be on your best behavior, or you're gonna find more notes in your truck.”

Ray groaned. He rubbed at his sore butt, and really, really hoped the White Pine PD didn't give him a hard time.  



End file.
